


Home for Christmas

by Kivrin



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivrin/pseuds/Kivrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year and a half after the Sunnydale Hellmouth was closed and all the Slayers activated, Buffy comes to England for a party.  Written for the <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/~lostgirlslair/153909.html">Drunken Giles ficathon</a>.  Beadattitude wrote an adorable sequel that you can find <a href="http://beadattitude.livejournal.com/60589.html">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home for Christmas

Buffy hovered in the hotel lobby, shifting a gift bag of duty-free Pannetone from hand to hand and wishing she'd waited for Dawn. Dawn could have carried the sweet bread, for one thing, or the Chianti bottle that was poking Buffy through her backpack, or some of the leather goods. Also, waiting until Dawn was done with school would have meant missing the party.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy switched the Pannetone over one more time and walked under the banner proclaiming W.A.S.S. FIRST ANNUAL SOLSTICE PARTY (Invitation Only). The girl checking coats, who had a Watchers and Slayers Society I.D. hanging around her neck and the spidey-sense-tripping vibe of a Slayer, frowned suspiciously at Buffy's invitation until she read the name, then gawked so much that she almost dropped the backpack. Buffy had half decided to grab her belongings and run back to the train station, hell, all the way back to Rome, when she heard her name.  
  
"Buff? Buffy!" It was Faith, looking strangely adult with her hair piled on her head, but perfectly Faith-ish in a low-cut red silk top and tight pants. "You came!" She grinned

"Yeah." Buffy grinned back shyly. "I, uh. Yeah."

"This is awesome!" Then Faith frowned. "We don't have to hug, do we?"

Buffy smiled more easily. "No. No hugging necessary."

"Cool. Come on, get inside!" Faith grabbed her arm and pulled her through the double doors of the ballroom.

There must have been five hundred people milling around under the four sparkling chandeliers and the enormous evergreen garlands looped high on the walls. Most were female: teenage girls in clubbing clothes gyrating on a dance floor in one corner, young women in cocktail dresses giggling over drinks and hors d'oeuvers at scattered high round tables, little girls in lace-trimmed velvet dresses and patent-leather shoes tearing through the crowd shrieking and miraculously avoiding the numerous waiters carrying trays of food.

"Wow." Buffy stared.

"Oh. Yeah, it feels funny." Faith stood a little closer. "All that Slayer energy buzzing. You okay? I know you're… not used."

"Yeah." Buffy nodded. "Just… wow. Y'know? It's… it's really not just us anymore."

"Nope. Not us vs. cranky British guys, either. Watchers _and_ Slayers. Which is cool. Though the acronym kinda sucks."

"Did you just say 'acronym?'"

Faith looked embarrassed. "Uh…"

"I'm sorry. That was really rude." Buffy checked her shoes, then Faith's, so she wouldn't have to look at her.

"Nah, s'okay. Not what you expect outta me." Faith shrugged. "Better tell you right now that I did my G.E.D. too."

Buffy looked up in time to see the pride warring with the embarrassment on Faith's face. "That's great, Faith," she said sincerely. "Good for you!"

"Thanks."

A lower voice cut through the feminine din. "Buffy!" She started at the familiar tone. Suddenly she didn't know what to do with her hands, and running was seeming like a really good idea, though she couldn't tell if she wanted to run away or run towards, or even if it was time to be having this particular panic attack. It wasn't necessarily Giles shouting her name. There must be lots of older British guys here, what with it being England and all. She glanced around again.

"There," Faith said, pointing. She gave Buffy a push.

"Buffy!" Giles shouted over the heads of a small pack of girls about fourteen. They made a path in front of him, murmuring "Mr. Giles," as he hurried past. "Buffy!"

Buffy couldn't speak around the pulse pounding in her throat. Giles was thinner than he'd been, and his frown lines seemed deeper, but the smile lines did too. They were a lot deeper now, especially around the gray-green eyes she didn't quite dare meet, especially around the smile. "You look wonderful!" he cried, and hugged her.

He felt wonderful, warm and solid and strong under a green cashmere sweater. A little stunned and shaky, Buffy hugged him back hard, letting her face stay against the soft fabric. "Hi, Giles," she whispered. He _smelled_ exactly like he should, too - like wool and aftershave and scotch. A lot of scotch.

"'S _wonderful_ to see you!" Giles repeated, drawing back to look at her. He had an empty glass in one hand, and his hair was slightly disheveled. "Swonderful!"

He looked so happy that Buffy felt a little weak, a little afraid that maybe one of them was dreaming. But his arm was warm and real under her hand, real as the clumsy way he stepped on her toe and giggled out an apology. "Are you drunk?" Buffy asked.

"No," Giles answered seriously. He put a hand on her shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. "I am complefundamuntably swozzled." He pressed his lips together and frowned. "And it... hm... feels... hmhmm... bloomarvelous!" He released the grin he'd been fighting and broke into delighted giggles.

Buffy couldn't help grinning back. "Really."

"Slutely! I mean, babsolly! Mean, ab-b-bs'lutely." Giles lifted his index finger from the empty glass in his free hand and poked Buffy's collarbone with it. "You," he said, "Should be too. Everyone should be. 'Nless... less..." he stared around vaguely, then let go of Buffy so he could throw an arm around Xander, who was passing with an armful of soda cans. "'Nless one's having a _perfectly good time_ without it." He emphasized each word by clinking his glass against the cans. "Xander." He tipped his head slightly to one side. "'re you having a _perfectly_ good time?"

"I'm good, Giles." Xander made a small movement as if to transfer the cans all to one arm, then gave up and just sort of nudged Giles. "Party's great, I think the girls are really enjoying it."

"'M having a _perfectly_ marvelous time. D'you know why I'm having a prefectly… mm… pre-pre… no… _perfectly_ marv'lous time?"

"Because the fine British brew has been flowing freely, I think."

"B'cause _Buffy_'sh finally here!" With a grand flourish that almost had both of them on the floor, Giles spun Xander to one side, bringing Buffy into range of his good eye.

Xander did a doubletake "Buffy!" He moved towards her, then looked down at the sodas. "Aw, crap."

"Hi, Xander." Buffy squeezed his shoulder. "It's okay, I'll hug you when you're, y'know, not busy."

"Think so? They're enjoying it?" Giles looked over the room. "Yes..." he nodded, satisfied. "Yes, think so... but you..." He stared intently at Xander again. "You're having a good time? Not t-t-t'busy?" He tried to take the sodas. "Can do that... y'should have goo' time..."

"Whoa!" Laughing, Xander twisted to keep a hold of his burden. "I think that would work better if you put down your glass. And I'm okay. Really. Got a bunch of teetotalers just waiting to look at me as their savior."

"Let the nice boy help out, Giles," Buffy said, gently removing Giles arm from Xander's.

"Buffy!" Giles beamed at her.

"That's my name." Buffy pulled him to one side so Xander would have space to pass.

"'re you having a good time? 'joo have a drink? Should have a drink. 'f you want a drink. D'you want a drink, Buffy? 'll get y'a drink..." He patted her shoulder firmly and peered around again, as if expecting a bar to appear. "Come on." Taking her firmly by the arm, he plunged back into the party crowd.

"Giles... really, it's... sorry, excuse me.... Giles!" Buffy laughed. "I think it's this way..." She pointed him in the direction Xander had come from, figuring the bar must be back there somewhere.

"Sorry... think 'm slightly squiffy... can tell, y'see, when I lose m'sense of discretion. No, no. Direction. Discretion. Hee!" Giles stopped as he was overcome with laughter again. "Never lose that. Well. Cases of magic. Well. Other things too. Not yet. Don't think. D'you?"

"Do I what?" Buffy couldn't stop giggling either. Really, Giles was the cutest drunk.

"Think've lost my sense of discreshshshun?" He laid a hand on her arm again. The party swirled around them, girls laughing, girls dancing, girls running, hand in hand with their friends. Through the chatter, Buffy could hear "I'll Be Home For Christmas" playing over the speakers. She looked up at Giles, who smiled right in her eyes.

"No." She tucked her arm securely into his. "I think you're just fine, Giles. I think you're perfect." She tugged him into bending down so she could kiss his cheek. "Everything's perfect."


End file.
